Oni No Ko
by Mad Boy Poet
Summary: Child of a Demon: The last moments of Okita Soji's life depicted through his duality as a warrior and a protector. Rated for violence and moderately implied Sojikata :P
1. Struggle

_For this to begin…for this to end, it requires one of us to at first admit the truth, doesn't it? I had never before thought you the coward. But this yearning has existed longer than it has not - and it is starved on sunlight, unable to grow. Everyone can see it. Everyone can feel it. You, however, deny the tender whispers that caress you at night, and refuse to voice them aloud._

_I cannot blame you; our class is in love with the sword, in love with death. Was there ever really a chance that you could love me, Hijikata-san?

* * *

_

A sharp metallic hiss - an announcement of another sword entering the fray. The First Unit Captain pivoted on the balls of his feet, spun around, and felt his weapon collide with a sister katana. It was only Saito. Okita broke from his lock against he other captain, nodding solemnly and turned away in that instant. There was no time for pleasantries. The Choshu men were on him quick, like carrion to meat, and were remarkably unimpressed by the renowned 'genius swordsman'.

"So this is the famous Okita Soji?!" spat one of the men, contrarily tightening his grip on the hilt of his katana. "This is the best the Shinsengumi can offer?" he hollered, grinning broadly at his fellow radicals. "You're not bad looking, pretty boy. I think you'd make me a better wife than an opponent!" But Soji had heard comments like that all his life. People often remarked on his delicate appearance - how he could look so sweet but kill so easily. Coldly - without hesitation, without emotive thought - he would cut them down. Again and again and again.

For there was always a new life to steal.

Rushing forward in a blur, Okita lunged at the ronin to the right of him, forcing the cool steel of his blade into the exposed flank of the man. Before the samurai's body had even fallen to the ground, the Captain was ploughing into the next man, fighting with such speed and poise that the men knew not how to retaliate. Okita's blade was devouring numerous souls tonight.

The katana forced its way through the cage of the rebel's chest, seeking that vital beating organ. It was the Choshu man who had spoken to Soji. Realising this, the First Unit Captain pressed lightly on the hilt of his sword; the gesture was gentle, but it made the deadly metal graze against the man's insides - one more tap, and the sword's penetration would prove fatal.

"Do you still want to marry me?" Okita mocked, watching with hidden horror as the rebel spat a glob of scarlet blood, glistening at his feet.

"So you really are a Mibu Dog after all!" The Shinsengumi Captain glared down the smooth, steel plane - but not at the man who was about to die before him - at his own reflection; at his dark, troubled eyes, reflected in the blade.

"You should be more prudent regarding the Wolves of Mibu. When the pack hunts, they leave none alive." A low, guttural yelp, a slice across flesh, and then nothing.

They dying sounds of battle wrapped around Soji; the clatter of metal-on-metal, cries of triumph and pain, the dull thud of more bodies hitting the ground. Staring at the fresh corpse in front of him, he felt no pity.

"The demon that I am…"

The nebulous sky grew even hazier, settling on a sable cloak in place of grey. Thunder raged in the distance, and Soji felt the first drops of rain descend from Heaven, ready to cleanse the cemetery he had just created. So many dead. So many dead.

_No…No, no…not now! _Breaking. Pushing. Compulsions, trembling. Tearing and clawing internally, before forcing upwards - racking his entire body with pain. Worse than anytime before, with more finality than he had ever felt, Soji began to cough violently. And as he retched, bright crimson blood poured forth from his mouth, mingling in the soil with those who had fallen before him. The complete agony coerced his body to the ground.

_It hurts, Hijikata-san…oh, it hurts. I was never able…to say…

* * *

_

The initial rains of the season were always heavy, and the downpour created a veil over Toshizo Hijikata's vision, like staring through gauze. But he knew what he was looking for.

"Where is he?!" he muttered under his breath. Suddenly, with disgusting clarity, the Vice Commander caught sight of the azure uniform of the Shinsengumi, across the other side of the plain. He could see all too clearly now the rich violet hair, the keen eyes glittering with tears. He was not dead, not yet. Surely there was still time.

"SOJI!"


	2. Our Goodbye

Hijikata ran. It was all he knew to do. He did not know how he could help - how to save Soji's life - but he was certain that if he could just make it to him, then everything would be alright. Okita was a good man, a damn good warrior, and a loyal friend - he could not just let him die. But there was more than that. So much more, that Toshizo held the torture in his heart, afraid of releasing the pain in case it evaporated the ecstasy that went with it. He needed the courage to take that risk, he needed Soji to hang on a little longer.

So he ran. And he tripped. The mounds of earth and human matter were moving under him. He tripped again, and again he got up. He would fall down a thousand times, but would never stop until he reached him.

* * *

Okita Soji lay crumpled in the emptying battlefield, clutching his last hope in a shaking fist. The sword was perfectly balanced, a masterpiece sculpted by an artist's hands, to be used in a killer's. There was certain irony in that, but he did not dwell on it too long. Time was dwindling short now. 

The Captain had long since decided - after years slaying others - how he himself wanted to die. Carving his way through life with the sword, he had wrought his own path ever since he had the means to. He would not allow the waves of destiny, fate, or God sweep him away now.

With his sword, Soji had taken the lives of many; it seemed only fit that he should meet his own end on its blade. Of course, hara-kiri, seppuku would be the most honourable thing to do. But it was not only that; Okita refused to succumb to the same festering disease that had stolen the breath of his mother and sister, and was now consuming him. He had permitted it to ravage his body for years, all the while suffering with smiles - but would not let it halt him when everything he wanted was rushing closer. He would exert control over his life, the way he had always done. Beginning to end.

Raising his arms up a little - outstretched and angled for his abdomen - Soji coiled his last remaining strength, and pushed it into his arms. The blade hovered a little away from his skin, ready to pierce. _Time to go, Sojiro_, he laughed to himself, but did not stop the tears flowing freely from his eyes, so purple and intense. _Sorry, Toshi_, he thought, staring at the vice-commander, who was fast approaching him. He giggled inwardly at his first use of his superior's given name, as he continued to gaze through the rain at his most treasured love. Soji's eyes were fixed on Hijikata as he drew the sword back…as he commanded it into his body - plunging deep, irrevocably. A mortal wound.

_I worked so hard…And I did it all for you…But you know that, don't you Hijikata-san? _Soji smiled, a last victory before the light departed from him.

* * *

"God damn it, Soji! Wake up! Don't leave, don't you dare leave me! Or else…or else, what am I going to do without you?!" Toshi hastily wiped his tears from Okita's pale face, as if they would tarnish it somehow. He could feel the other Shinsengumi members at his back, filtering through the rain. But they were mere ghosts, as insubstantial as air. They did not matter. Toshizo noted how Soji's eyelashes created dark shadows under his eyes, and wondered again why the Captain wasn't opening them. Why wasn't he responding to him? Was he disobeying the command of a superior officer? "I said wake, you, you…" 

Quickly, chastely, Hijikata leant down to place a kiss on Okita's beautiful mouth, savouring the too-brief moment. He struggled to contain a cry of anguish and horrible acceptance. Soji's lips, soft, gentle, honest…The blood on them was already cold.

End

**

* * *

AN:** Hello all. This was terribly sad, wasn't it? I nearly cried writing it. I'm not in the slightest depressed, but I've been writing a lot of unhappy stuff lately. Actually, I never write nice things! I think I must expel all my ill-feelings into stories, so I - consequently - are happy all the time I don't really like hardcore stuff for this pairing, it is too much for their characters. So I did not go overboard. Oh well...btw, PMK is one of my favourite animes ever. Okita-sama forever! There's something great about knowing that the 'good guys' will eventually lose in the end...hahaha, I'm lovely aren't I? I was bored of hearing/reading Soji die of tuberculosis - sad as it is - so made him commit suicide instead - lucky guy. 


	3. Kokoro

Toshizo Hijikata paced about his room, skin raining sweat with the humidity. He knew he should open the shoji screens, let some air in, but he could not face being seen. People's eyes, staring… _Pitying_; no, he would not have that.  
The Vice Commander took up his pipe, and let himself fall against the wall, sliding down it until his body reached the floor. He did not stop the tears that came - as he had tried to all times since…since Soji…

Because he was gone. He was gone. They were completely, utterly, and forever apart. Another bout of tears shook Hijikata's body and he crumpled even further into himself. Fiercely - he threw the pipe across the room, where it smacked against the opposing wall. He made a brief prayer that no one would come check on him because of the noise. If they did find him this way - wet with tears, robes dishevelled, hair tousled and unkempt, red-eyed and pathetic - they would surely think less of their superior. Obedience, loyalty, were integral to the workings of the Shinsengumi. He had to be strong, for them. _For him_, he thought.

Like a dying animal seeking water, Toshizo listlessly crawled to the low desk on the tatami in front of him - hand outstretched, reaching for a brush. With effort, he pushed himself upright to sit at the table, looking down before him though, was quite unbearable. Okita's drawings - childish and cute - were scribbled all over the paper; pictures of Saizo, of the beautiful sakura, of the page Tetsu - even little ones of Soji himself - and a few dainty cartoons of Hijikata; some furious, troubled Toshizos, then a couple of sleeping Toshizos, beautiful at rest.

"Soji…" he barley spoke the word, merely breathed it - as if speaking would shatter the glass-like tranquillity that had fallen over the scene.

Grinding the ink stone around the ceramic plate, he watched numbly: the water turned black, black, blacker still. Then Hijikata picked up a brush, and dipped it carefully into the ink. He was suspending it above the new sheet of paper, even though his heart was certain what he was going to write.

_You're not trying to write those silly haiku again, are you, Hijikata-san?_ The Vice Commander could hear Okita's clear laugh, resonating in his mind. He smiled, despite his weighty grief.

It took great courage for Toshizo to write his words. He spoke them aloud as he wrote, to give them strength - to heighten their message. Somewhere, at some distant place, some distant time, he felt that Okita would be echoing them.

"The pretty buds were ready to bloom,"

_The pretty buds were ready to bloom…_

"Beauty withered; I did not see the frost."

_Beauty withered; I did not see the frost…_

* * *

"The frost…the disease that - that _killed you_!"

_Don't be foolish, Hijikata-san! I killed myself, and you know it. _Hijikata looked up, astonished. He knew it was probably an illusion, of course, it had to be. But he did not care. It was the First Unit Captain, Okita. In front of him now. No, it was Soji. His Soji. His white yukata just as it had always been; his rich violet hair tied loosely at the end as it draped across his back. His open smile, kind and clever eyes.

_Now, I want you to be more prudent Toshi! _The apparation laughed, mimicking words that Hijikata had said to him himself. _You must think about the way in which you act…Be strong for them, because they need you Hijikata-san. _

Soji always knew what he should do. He always advised him correctly. So what would he do now?…

"But, I need you, Soji." Okita gave a little giggle, flicking a lock of hair over his shoulder before skipping up to Hijikata. He placed his hands on his knees, and bent down as if talking to a child - for Hijikata was sat low. A flow of dark hair fell into Toshizo's lap.

_No, you don't. You are tougher than you think, though not as resilient as everyone believes you are. Take these tears, and remember them; that's what will make you strong. _

Hijikata's hand instantly went to his face, feeling the dripping from his eyes.  
"How can I help anyone?! A leader should not weep!" Suddenly, Okita swooped forward and cupped Hijikata's face in his hands, placing a kiss beneath an eye - to catch a falling droplet on his lips.

_Everyone is allowed to cry sometimes! Even you, Hijikata-san… _The perfect image of Soji began to fade, and instead of the Captain's form, the Vice Commander could only see the things behind him; the desk, a painted scroll hanging from the wall.   
But for the first time in what felt like aeons, Toshizo managed a smile. Soji's lips…they were warm! He was alive - maybe not in this world - but somewhere, in a life unlike this one, Soji lived! And Toshi vowed that they would meet again.

_Is that a promise?_

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

_Never say that! Heehee, not so soon anyway._

"Goodnight, my love."

_Just remember that I am never far away, Hijkata-san…_

**Owari**

* * *

**AN: **Well, I admit that this chapter wasn't even supposed to exist. But I felt sort of bad for leaving it so...hence this little conclusion to a sad story. I also wanted to convey through this fic that there's more to this couple than blatant homosexuality and casual lemon, as is so often done. Their relationship is delicate, is real. I don't know how well I showed that, but in any case, I hope you enjoyed it. And I promise that this is really the end this time! x 


End file.
